


No Exit

by withdiamonds



Category: Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-25
Updated: 2008-04-25
Packaged: 2017-10-18 22:15:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/193886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withdiamonds/pseuds/withdiamonds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The other bus story.  “Looking for a bus to ride us back home to Eternity, where the heart was left and farewell tears began.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Exit

Justin grinned at JC as together they pushed through the silver material hanging at the back of the stage. JC grinned maniacally back at him. Dude was so high on performing, and he threw his head back and laughed with sheer delight. _Bye, Bye, Bye_ was a soaring note to end the concert on and sometimes it took them forever to bring JC down from his post-performance high.

Justin frowned suddenly. That was wrong, though, wasn’t it? They didn’t end the show with _Bye, Bye, Bye_ any more. He felt dizzy. He blinked and put out a hand to steady himself.

One of their dressers was right there, shoving a towel into his outstretched hand, and Justin took it automatically, dragging it over his sweaty head. The curls used to trap moisture, and no matter how hard he scrubbed some sweat always escaped the towel and trickled down his face. He had hated how gross that made him feel. It was one of the reasons he shaved his head, why he kept his hair short when they toured now.

As a stray drop of sweat dripped off his damp curls and into his eye, he shivered and looked around for Chris, pushing down the rising feeling of panic in his chest. The usual backstage chaos seemed as if it were rushing at him from a long way away.

Chris was nearby, pulling his earpieces out, untangling them from around his neck and handing them to the waiting sound tech. He glanced at Justin and frowned. Nodding at the sound guy, he started in Justin’s direction.

Ignoring the people flocking around them with bottles of water and dry towels, Chris made his way over with a reassuring smile and said, “To the buses, baby.” Grabbing Justin by the elbow, Chris towed him out of the arena and toward the waiting buses. JC was already there and as the door closed behind Justin, he fought another surge of panic.

“Are Lance and Joey here yet?” They couldn’t leave without Lance and Joey, why was the driver pulling out of the venue already?

“They’re on the other bus, J.” Chris stared at him with concern.

Justin felt dizzy again. Right, Lance and Joey had their own bus. There had been two buses for a while now, he remembered. Justin ran his hand over his head, feeling the sharp stubble there, and said, “I think I’m gonna go to bed.” He felt JC and Chris’s eyes on him as he headed toward the back of the bus.

 

*

 

Justin stumbled out of his bunk, rubbing his eyes and yawning. He wasn’t sure, but he thought it was morning. Lance was on the couch, the leopard print clashing horribly with his blue and yellow striped sleep pants. Joey tripped out of the bathroom as Justin edged by, bumping into him in the tiny bus hallway. Joey wasn’t even dressed, he just had on ragged boxers and an old tee-shirt that said _I GO TO NSYNC CONCERTS FOR PUSSY._

Justin stared as Joey yawned widely and headed back to the bunks. Stopping to let people switch buses almost always woke Justin up. He didn’t remember doing that last night at all.

Justin had been happy when they finally got two buses. It was good to be able to spread out, to breathe a bit. Lance and Joey and all the animals seemed content on their bus, and it didn’t matter so much that Justin and Chris were sleeping together when Lance wasn’t there to see it.

Justin tried to think, but he wasn’t sure when they had actually made the switch to two buses. Sometime during the PopOdessey tour? Before he and Lance broke up, surely. He had a hard time remembering things lately and it worried him.

He smiled wanly at Lance and decided he needed a couple more hours sleep. When Justin woke up again, Chris and JC were playing halo on the dark blue leather couch and Lance and Joey were gone.

 

*

 

For the life of him, Justin couldn’t recall what city they were in. They had arrived at the venue early in the afternoon, what looked to be hundreds of fans surrounding the buses as they pulled into the parking lot. No underground garage, and the screams reverberated in Justin’s ears as the bodyguards formed a protective phalanx to hurry them inside.

And now sound check was almost over. The fans were unruly, their questions hovering on the edge of hostile. _What are the group’s plans for after this tour? Why isn’t the tour longer? None of you have any solo plans, do you? Why is Lance going to Russia? Is Kelly pregnant again? Has Chris put on weight? JC’s not going to cut his hair, is he?_

Justin shivered, relieved to escape backstage. He caught the same worried expression on Chris’s face that he’d seen the other night.

Justin used to be able to keep track of their schedule better and it bothered him that he didn’t know where they were. He knew better than to ask Lance. Lance was so focused on getting the Celebrity tour over with, on being able to get on with things in Russia, that he was impatient with just about everyone he came in contact with, Justin included.

He was even impatient in bed, telling Justin roughly, “Come on, do it, J, just get on with it, what’re you waiting for?” Justin didn’t know what he was waiting for, but he was positive there was time. Sometimes it felt like they had forever.

But then Pharrell would call and they would make plans and time would speed up. Justin would be able to see the end.

Those were the days when Justin felt frantic, rushed, because there was someplace he needed to be, something else he needed to be doing. On those days, he fucked Lance with a desperate urgency, hard and fast enough that Lance couldn’t find sufficient breath to complain.

Justin slipped backstage to the quick change area where the tour schedule was supposed to be posted. It was always in a prominent place, so that they didn’t go onstage and yell how ya doing, Detroit! at the entire female teenage populations of Chicago or Houston. The schedule wasn’t in place yet and Justin just hoped he could bluff his way through dinner without anyone knowing how goddamned disoriented he was.

Something shiny caught his eye when he turned to head back to the Quiet Room. Justin’s breath stuttered in his throat as he stood and stared at the bedazzled jeans and sparkly red bandana hanging on the costume rack, next to the shiny red pants that Chris used to tease JC unmercifully about during the No Strings Attached tour. The relatively normal tee-shirts and jeans they were wearing for the Celebrity tour were nowhere in sight. Justin felt light-headed, like he might pass out.

He needed to talk to Chris. Chris would know what was going on.

But it turned out Justin didn’t know how to even begin the kind of conversation necessary to figure out what was going on. _Where are we?_ was only slightly less disturbing than _When is this?_ Chris already thought he was nuts, judging by the look he gave him just yesterday, when Justin was talking about the flips in _I Want You Back_

.

He didn’t know why he’d been talking about the flips. They weren’t doing them on this tour. They’d eliminated them from the choreography forever, according to Chris and his knee. In fact, Justin was sure they were doing a blues version of the song that they all swore they would never sing again once this tour was over.

He glanced up, his stomach churning with anxiety, to find Chris watching him. He looked worried, but smiled reassuringly at Justin. At that warm smile of understanding, Justin unaccountably felt heat prickle at the back of his eyes. He was scared, and tired of being confused. He missed Lance. He missed being sure. Chris walked over to him, balancing a plate of sandwiches in one hand, and two bottles of beer in the other.

He handed Justin one of the beers and smacked a kiss on his cheek. “Cheer up, J.” Chris looked at him with dimly veiled sorrow, which Justin didn’t understand at all. “Everything’s fine, okay?”

Gratitude washed over Justin, leaving him weak with relief. He sank down onto the sofa behind him and grabbed a sandwich off the plate Chris held out to him. He smiled.

Chris said it would be all right.

“I love you,” Justin said when he kissed Chris.

 

*

 

Lance’s hair looked different. It looked like it used to, longer, blonder, spiked high in the air, accentuating his green eyes. He looked younger somehow, less comfortable in his body. He came out of the tiny bus bathroom and smiled sweetly at Justin.

“Come here,” Justin said, patting the ugly leopard print couch. Joey had the world’s worst taste in upholstery. Justin was glad the new buses were less ugly.

Lance looked anxiously around the small space, back toward the bunks. Justin grinned.

”They’re all asleep. I checked when I heard you get up.” He closed his hand over Lance’s wrist and pulled him down. Lance was warm with sleep and Justin buried his face in his neck. Lance sighed.

“I love you,” he said, and Justin could feel the heat from his skin as he blushed.

It was a nice dream, full of old memories and old love. Justin hoped Chris didn’t wake him up too soon.

 

*

 

Justin couldn’t stop thinking about the expression in Chris’s eyes whenever he looked at Justin. It reminded Justin of grief. It felt like goodbye.

Justin didn’t know what it meant. He felt uneasy, unable to focus. Everything was off. The voracious energy he felt from the fans during their concerts roiled in his belly until he couldn’t eat or sleep. Food tasted bitter in his mouth and he woke up in the middle of the night, his heart racing and his palms sweaty. Lance rumbled impatiently beside him, sharp in the morning at his disturbed sleep.

“Jesus, Justin, just pick out a damn pair of shoes and let’s go! No one’s gonna notice your shoes, they’re all gonna be too busy staring at JC’s stupid hair. It’s just a fucking meet and greet.”

Justin blinked. “I’m coming, fuck off,” he answered, stung. It mattered. The fans would notice his shoes. Lance‘s impatience was like an itch under Justin’s skin, chafing and making him impatient in return.

There were nights out, strippers and whipped cream, but it didn’t help.

Lance smiled at him ruefully, something like regret in his eyes. “It’s just – everything’s changing, Justin. I thought I could do it all, but right now, I just have to let go of some things.” He paused. “You know I love you, man.”

 

*

 

Chris was always there, a constant presence at Justin’s back. When Lance was impatient, when he had that goddamn cell phone glued to the side of his head, shooing Justin away after sound check to make arrangements for his next battery of Russian medical tests, Chris would appear to drag Justin off for round ninety-seven of their epic Tony Hawk battle, or to chase him around the dark, hidden corners of the venues. He kissed Justin up against the walls and doorways, his thigh hard between Justin’s legs.

Chris was there late at night on the bus, when Justin sat by the window and stared at the lights flashing by, trying to clear out the fog that had taken up permanent residence in his brain, shivering with things he didn’t understand.

Chris slipped onto the couch behind him, quiet for once, hands brushing over Justin’s shoulders, down his arms and across the back of his neck. Justin leaned into his touch with a sigh.

“Don’t stop,” he said.

“I wasn’t going to,” Chris replied.

“I – I’ve been – lately things have been weird,” Justin said. “Sometimes I feel like…I get confused sometimes, you know?” Chris nodded. “Like, things are different. Like it’s two years ago,” Justin whispered, not sure he really wanted Chris to hear him.

Chris quirked an eyebrow at him. “You been keeping the good shit for yourself again, J?”

“No, you ass,” Justin said, smacking Chris on the arm. He thought about it, tried to find the right words to describe it. “It’s like – I feel this weird vibe, this energy, when the fans are around.” He hurried on, trying to forestall Chris’s _duh, dumbass_. “Right, I know, but this is different. They want something. They’re pulling me. I think they want me-” he had to smack Chris’s arm again – “I think they want me – us – to go back.”

They sat in silence while Chris gave it some thought. His hands were sure and strong, spreading warmth and dispelling the chill of uncertainty. “Why do you care what they want, J? It’s your life, man. It belongs to you.” He placed gentle fingers on Justin’s jaw, turning his face toward his own. “It’s all of us, Justin. It’s your decision, but it affects all of us. Move forward or stay back.”

Justin shrugged. “Well, yeah, but what if…you mean stay stay? For always?” he asked anxiously. He just wasn’t sure. He suddenly wondered if Chris would think he wasn’t enough to make Justin stay. “I’m tired,” Justin said simply, trusting that Chris would understand.

He did. “It’s almost over, J. We’re almost finished with this gig.” Chris didn’t mean just this tour, Justin knew. It was both a warning and a reassurance.

 

*

 

Tonight Justin knew what city they were in. They were in Orlando for the last concert of the Celebrity tour. Where it all started, and where it was all going to end soon. And then he could start something new. Something just for him. Something the fans could love as much, maybe even more.

He was afraid they wouldn’t, though. He’d been getting that message pretty clearly lately.

He could make them happy if he wanted to. If he wanted to, if he cared about them at all, he could make everybody happy. Then they would always love him.

Justin looked around the stage. JC was crying, Joey trying to comfort him. Lance looked like he was trying to keep from checking his watch and Justin was filled with a rush of love for him that left him breathless.

Chris watched him, waiting.

Justin threw his head back and flung his arms open wide. He closed his eyes and let the energy of the crowd take him.

 

*

 

Justin looked around the hotel room with curiosity. He was slightly puzzled, but he shrugged it off. It didn’t matter, really, but there were things worrying at him somewhere in his mind, little niggling things, buried deep under all the hype and excitement and delirium of the past…strange, he wasn’t sure how many weeks it had been. Maybe it had been months, and it surprised him that he didn’t know.

He shrugged off his doubts. He thought maybe they should concern him, but they didn’t. He was flying high, carried aloft on the winds of unprecedented success, 2.4 million in one week, and he really wasn’t troubled by something as unimportant as time.

He pushed Lance back against the pillows and kissed him happily as their victorious appearance on TRL played in the background. The sound of the fans’ triumphant screams washed over Justin.

“We got the world at our feet, baby. They’re gonna love us forever.”


End file.
